


Hey stranger, I want you to catch me like a cold

by teeslover



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, X-Men - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Bobby Drake and Tim Drake are cousins, Gen, Just Iceman, M/M, Other X-Men do not appear, this fic was born solely out of my love for Dick Grayson and Bobby Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:07:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22020790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teeslover/pseuds/teeslover
Summary: Tim is not amused. When his cousin, Bobby, comes to visit, he wanted to chill and hang out with him like they used to. But add a few drug dealers in the mix, and suddenly, Dick Grayson’s there, secrets are being spilled, and Tim just wants to know what’s going on!
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson/Bobby Drake, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	Hey stranger, I want you to catch me like a cold

**Author's Note:**

> Crossover ship! If you don’t know who Bobby Drake is, just give “Iceman X-Men” a little Google and you’ll know everything you need! Alternatively, if you’re an X-Men fan and don’t know a thing about this Dick Grayson, search up Nightwing! :) 
> 
> A few things to mention: I read that Tim Drake’s parents are in witness protection, so that’s what he’s talking about. Also, yes, he told Bobby about Batman/Robin, but everyone’s fine with that.
> 
> In my mind, Tim is 17 here, Bobby is 23 and Dick is 21.

Bobby Drake stepped off the large Greyhound bus, black duffel bag in hand. Shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun, he turned in a slow circle, taking in Gotham’s high skyscrapers and tiny alleyways, the whole of the city feeling bogged down with a heavy smog layer. He let out a low whistle mostly in awe, but also in bewilderment that the city could look so beautiful, yet feel so grotesque at the same time.

Bobby walked towards the back entrance of the bus station, where relatives and friends were welcoming their family and visitors. As the crowd started to thin out a little, he zeroed in on the very person he was waiting to see. Leaning on a bus schedule billboard with his arms crossed, Tim Drake peeked out from under his sunglasses at the new arrival. 

“There he is!” Bobby yelled out, arms outstretched. He ran towards Tim, all but flinging the duffel off to the side, and pulled the boy into a tight bear hug. “What’s up?!”

“Urk!” Tim squeaked as his cousin picked him up a couple inches off the floor. He gave him a few pats on the back, smiling widely. “Great to see you, Bobby! Could you put me down, though?”

“Oh, yeah.” Bobby let go, locating his forlorn bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “What’s it been, like 3 years since I last saw you? And you’re just as short as I remember.”

“Oh, hahaha, hilarious! I could still kick your ass,” Tim retorted, grabbing his guest’s sparse luggage, and walked to their awaiting car.

“Whoa.” Bobby stopped short, marveling at their ride. He wasn't exactly sure what kind it was, but its gold plated tires and shiny navy blue coat shimmering in the sunlight were enough to give him pause.

“What? You've seen this car before.” Tim unlocked the doors and threw the bag to the back.“Get in.”

“Gimme a sec, it's been a while, and it's not like you came rolling up in an old Toyota Corolla.” 

“Come on, hurry up. Alfred’s waiting for us. He’s making my favorite!”

“What’s that?” Bobby asked as he opened the door. “Pepperoni pizza?”

Tim got in and turned the key in the ignition, shooting a glare back to his passenger. “Unlike yours, my tastes have evolved past a 12 year old’s taste buds, thank you very much. It’s chicken cacciatore.”

“Wow, that’s precocious.” 

“Shut up!” Tim rolled out of the parking lot, taking one hand off the wheel to punch Bobby in the arm. At the blond’s offended cry of pain, Tim snickered. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should visit me sometime! I mean, not that Gotham isn’t its own brand of charming,” he paused to look out the window, seeing a stray cat playing with a dead rat on a trash can lid, stopping to hiss at all the passerby. “Well, it’s… definitely something.”

“Ok, fair point. I’ll go to New York sometime… I’ve always wanted to see that fancy boarding school of yours. Hey, maybe I could sit in on of your, what is it, math classes?” 

“Uhhh, yeah, that’d be cool,” Bobby said dismissively, changing the subject as fast as he could. “So how’ve you been? How’s Bruce?”

“Great, we’re both doing great! I’ve been keeping tabs on my parents too. They’re happy and safe, so can’t ask for anything better.” 

Bobby hummed in agreement, then leaned down a bit, almost conspiratorially. “And what about… the other you,” he asked in a comically loud whisper.

Tim rolled his eyes, but responded in the same volume. “Robin’s killing it. But, you know, crime in Gotham never sleeps.” 

“I hear that.” Bobby smiled, feeling a sense of pride mixed with the unavoidable sense of dread. “And you’re still alive! Love that for you.”

“Thanks.” Tim laughed, pulling up to the Wayne Manor’s closed front gates. He punched in his code and waited for the wrought iron to part. “How about you? How’re my aunt and uncle? 

Bobby’s smile faltered a bit, recalling the last time he went to see his mom and dad. “Umm, fine. Dad had a heart attack last month.”

Tim almost slammed on the brakes in shock.

“No, no, he’s ok! He was just… a little stressed out, I guess. He’s fine, Tim, they both are,” Bobby reassured him.

“Sounds like you’re a little disappointed about that.” Tim parked the car in the driveway and looked to his cousin in concern.

“No, I’m…” Bobby ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I came out to them a while back and they took it about as well as I expected. We’ve barely talked since.”

“Oh.” Tim took the keys out and fumbled with them. 

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know what you need?” Tim retrieved Bobby’s bag from the backseat and got out of the car. “Hot chicken in tomato stew. It’ll solve all your problems, I promise.”

Bobby’s grin came back in full force. “Thank god, I’m starving! That bus ride was 3 hours too long.”

******

Pushing open the doors to the manor, Tim hung his keys on the holder by the door, next to at least seven other key rings, and made a beeline to the kitchen.

“Alfred!” Tim called out, seeing the older gentlemen by the sink, drying off a few plates. “Bobby’s here and he’s really excited about that chicken.” He spotted the large red pot on the stovetop, moving to lift the lid. He took in a deep breath and exhaled contentedly. “Oh, that smells amazing.”

“And is still stewing.” Alfred swatted Tim’s hand away and replaced the lid. “It’ll be ready in another 10 minutes. In the meantime, why don’t you show Robert to his room?” He turned to Bobby standing awkwardly in the kitchen entrance and bowed. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Drake.”

“Hey, Alfred!” Bobby came forward to give the man a hug. “It’s been way too long. This place gets bigger every time I see it, I don’t know how you do it.” 

“It’s a blessing and a curse. Oh, apologies on behalf of Master Bruce, he wanted to be here. But there was some surprise business he had to take care of. He’ll be back by tonight.” 

“Oh, no, please! He has, like, an entire corporation to run. Not to mention the whole protecting the city gig! I don’t want to be a bother.” 

“Bobby!” Tim called from up the stairs. “Come on, your room’s ready!”

“Coming!” Bobby waved goodbye to Alfred, giving him a quick bow for some reason, and ran to find Tim in the upper bedrooms on the left side. 

Stepping into the room, Bobby’s eyes widened at the sight of the four post bed, walk-in closet, and heavy, intricate curtains adorning the windows. “Wow, this is… I don’t even remember… I really gotta visit more often.”

Tim smirked, leaned on the door frame, and jerked a thumb behind him. “My room’s right here if you need anything.” He gestured to a small closet further down the hall. “Extra towels and blankets are in there. I took the liberty of stocking your room already, but in case you need it. Oh, and the WiFi password is over there.” He pointed to the desk in the corner, supplied with a couple books, a pen and paper, and the aforementioned password pinned up on the side. “I think that’s it, so get settled in or whatever and I’ll see you downstairs!”

A few minutes later, Bobby came bounding back down, a steaming plate of cacciatore and toasted bread waiting for him. Tim was already halfway finished with his. “That looks absolutely amazing! Alfred, can you teach me how to make this?” 

“I’d be more than happy to, Mr. Drake.” Alfred replied, placing the last of the dishes into their respective cupboards. “Now, if you two will excuse me, there are some repairs I must attend to.” 

Both Bobby and Tim voiced their thanks and turned their focus entirely to eating the wondrous stew in front of them. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait a second, in addition to running around keeping Gotham safe, you’ve been involved with this whole other team for 2 years and you haven’t come up with a team name yet?” Bobby propped himself up on an elbow, choosing one of the numerous gold trimmed throw pillows scattered on his bed to hug. He looked at Tim, incredulous. “I mean, what’s the point without a cool name? You just call yourselves ‘the team’?” 

“Umm, yeah, I guess.” Tim spun around in his chair, clearly giving the question some thought. “I don’t know, it’s usually just alpha, beta, delta team. Why, are you about to give me name suggestions?”

Bobby paused, pulling out his phone to type  _ interesting team names  _ into Google. “Well, these are super corny… oh, wait! Masters of- mmm… How about the Teen T-? No… The Young-? Actually, no, I hate that. Oooh, what about The Champions?”

“No.”

“Strong veto on champs, got it. Ok, well,” Bobby put his phone down and sunk back into the bed. “You get the point, team names are crucial! It’s like… how to build camaraderie 101. You know, like, Team! Assemble!” 

“Oh, really? I can just see it now… all your classes having super  _ cool _ group names and your students all acting like they’re super into it.”

Bobby made a shocked noise, feigning offense. “Rude, and just so you know, we do have a collective group name and it’s awesome! I’m just saying, Timmy, don’t knock it ‘till you try it!” 

Before Tim could respond, he was interrupted by a buzzing in his pocket. “Hang on, I’m getting a call.” He crossed the hallway into his own room and grabbed his communicator. Answering the call, a hologram of Nightwing crackled into view. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to update you. Bruce caught a case while he was leaving Central City. Something about a robbery, but the mayor doesn't want to pursue? Anyway, he and Barry are working it and he's probably not gonna make it back to Gotham by tonight.”

“Ok, I'll tell Alfred. How about you? You busy? My cousin's in town, the one I told you about, and I don't think you guys have met. But if that doesn't interest you,” Tim stopped, holding up his index, then middle finger. “Two words: chicken cacciatore.”

“Oooh, I might just have to take you up on that. I'll try to be there after I clean up some of these surveillance tapes.”

“Hey, Tim?” Bobby called out from his room, sounding slightly confused. 

“One sec!” Tim yelled back, issuing a farewell to Nightwing first. “Ok, so see you here in a little bit?”

“Hopefully.” The two signed off.

Intending to return to Bobby's room, Tim turned back around to his bedroom door, only to be met with his cousin gaping at him, duffel bag in tow. “Uhh, yes?”

Bobby closed his mouth and tightly gripped the strap of his bag. “Was that Nightwing??  _ The  _ Nightwing?? You.. you know… Nightwing? Like, call-and-invite-him-to-dinner know him??”

Now it was Tim's turn to be confused. “Uhh, what? Yeah, we know each other. Obviously. Remember all the research I showed you about Dick Grayson?”

“That's Dick Grayson?!” Bobby dropped his bag and put both hands up to his head. “Oh my god, of course, that's OG Robin! How did I not put that together…?” He pointed at Tim accusingly. “How could you not tell me!?” 

“I thought you knew! He was clearly somewhere else when I became Robin. It's not like he died.”

"Yeah, but… all those pictures of him you showed me when we were kids, he was like... tiny. I mean, Nightwing is smokin-!" Bobby stopped short of completing that sentence, noticing Tim's growing look of horror. He coughed and cleared his throat before continuing. “What I meant to say was, I see him a lot on tabloids and, like, fan sites and he… is definitely not a kid anymore.”

“Ok,” Tim said slowly, sporting an unnaturally large grin. “So this conversation’s going in a direction I'm not at all comfortable with. I feel like my cousin is crushing on someone I consider to basically be my brother, so I'm gonna move us past this and ask you: Didn't you need something?”

Bobby shook himself free of his thoughts on a certain someone and realized there was indeed a problem he needed solving. "Oh, yeah!" He grabbed his duffel and opened up the zipper wide to show Tim its contents. “I don't think this is my bag.”

Tim peered into the opening and sucked some air in through his teeth upon seeing several bricks of the unmistakable white powdery substance, nestled atop quite a few tall stacks of cash. “Well… that's going to be a problem.” 

“Yeah, I must have mixed it up with someone else’s back at the station.” Bobby rifled through a bundle of bills. “I think there’s at least $200,000 in here. Not to mention the couple hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of cocaine. What should we do with it? And more importantly, does this mean I have no clothes?”

“Relax, I’ll take you shopping.” Tim waved off his concern, zipping up the drug bag. “Someone’s definitely gonna be looking for this.” 

At that moment, Bobby’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Taking it out, he saw that the caller ID simply said Private Number. He showed the screen to Tim. “Speak of the devil.”

“What? You don’t know that’s them! How would they have even gotten your number?”

“Only one way to find out,” Bobby mused, sliding the green phone symbol to the right, then pressed the speaker button. “Hello?”

“Robert Drake.” 

“That is me,” Bobby answered, though it didn’t seem like the other caller phrased it as a question. “Who is this? How’d you get this number?”

“There was a card in your bag.  _ Robert Drake: Certified and General Accountant? _ Which brings me to the reason for my call… You have something of mine.”

“That wouldn’t happen to be a ton of cocaine, would it?”

“9 keys, to be exact. I’d like it back.”

“And why would I give it back? I should just call the cops now and cut out the middleman. Plus, you should be thanking me! I don’t know who you are, so not only am I saving your ass from prison, but you also get to keep all my clothes! Better treat that cashmere right.” Bobby smirked as Tim stared back, unimpressed.

There was shuffling on the other line and muffled voices in what seemed to be a pretty heated argument. Suddenly, a new voice clearly rang out, but it was quieter and meeker than whoever had been on before. “Hi,” the new guy said, “I’d really appreciate you not calling the cops. I really need that package back, pleeease! My uncle’s gonna kill me if he finds out I lost another haul! Please, can we trade back?! I’ll give you, like, $10,000!”

“Seriously? Ummm….” Bobby looked to Tim, unsure on how to respond. “I don’t-”

“Oh, wait!” Before he could finish, Tim reached for the phone, nearly knocking it to the ground, and muted the call. “Tell them you’ll trade.”

“What?!”

“Don’t worry, just tell them you’ll meet them somewhere… tonight.”

“All right…” Bobby unmuted and got back to the nervous young man on the other side. “Hey, man, uhh… if it means that much to you… I’ll give it back.”

“Really?! Yes!” The cheer was cut short as the guy cleared his throat. “I mean, uhh, excellent. That dive bar that went out of business near River Merchant. You know it?”

Bobby glanced at Tim, who nodded his approval. “Sure?”

“10 o’clock. Be there.” The line went dead.

“Ok, so I’m assuming you have a plan? Hopefully one that can be done in,” Bobby paused to check the time, “the next hour?” 

“Plan’s simple.” Tim pulled out his phone and shot off a text. “We give them the bag, Commissioner can take care of the rest.”

“Ohhh…. That’s it? You don’t think they’ll be expecting us to rat them out like that?”

“No,” Tim scoffed. “That bar’s been empty for years. None of the big players operate up there, which means this is probably just some low level drug dealer trying to move up in the world, if he’s not just a courier. Besides, he didn’t sound very bright… He’s probably too distracted by us even agreeing to give back $200,000 in cash.”

“Mmm, well, he was really worried about his uncle,” Bobby added.

“I don’t think this is gonna make him any happier.” 

* * *

At 9:50, the Drake cousins sat parked on the riverside, engine idling. There were barely any street lights on this side of the city and most of their visibility was thanks to the full moon. Tim sat back in his seat, switching the headlights off.

“So,” he turned towards Bobby, who was currently occupying himself with the retracting capabilities of the sunroof panel. “How’s the accounting business going?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I just had those made in case any friends of friends needed tax help or something. I’ve barely had anything to do with accounting since graduation.”

“Ohh... You don’t teach that at your school?”

“No way!” Bobby reclined his seat all the way back, settling in. “Don’t get me wrong, financial literacy is very important, but I’m good being a sophomore, uhhh, chemistry teacher.” 

“Huh.” Tim looked out his window, muttering something under his breath.

“What?”

At that moment, a silver truck came squealing into the empty lot, blasting the two with light from its high beams. “Hey, there’s our guy.” 

Two large men clad in ill-fitting black suits stepped out, a smaller and younger guy coming out behind them. He walked forward, wringing the straps of the black duffel in his hands, and stopped midway between his car and Tim’s.

Bobby got out of the car, throwing the drug bag to the feet of the squirrely looking dealer. “There you go, man! You’re welcome.”

The kid grabbed his bag and opened it, ruffling through its many illegal contents, before breathing an audible sigh of relief. “Oh, dude, you’re a lifesaver.” He grabbed a stack of cash and placed it on top of Bobby’s duffel. Waving off his bodyguards, he walked over and handed the bag over, winking. “The little finder’s fee I promised.” 

“Ohh… thanks.” Bobby turned to Tim, who just shot him a deprecating look, then presented the wad of money back. “It’s ok, keep it, you earned that… maybe. You got your stuff, I got my stuff, let’s just go our separate ways.”

“Ok, if you’re sure.”

“Yep! I’m sure.” Bobby gave him a shaky smile and a small wave. “‘K, bye!”

He and Tim watched as the three men returned to their car and drove out into the road. The truck turned the corner, and just as they were about to disappear out of sight, blue and red lights converged around them, sirens blaring. 

“Well, that was fun!” Tim stayed a minute more, watching the officers pat down and arrest the three dealers. “Let’s get going.” 

He turned the headlights back on and put the car in reverse. Just as he pressed down on the pedal, the tail lights illuminated a figure on a motorcycle, leaning forward on the handlebars. Tim slammed on the brakes as Bobby let out a scream. “Dick! God, I could’ve run you over!”

“Whew!” Bobby exhaled deeply, visibly relaxing. “I thought they found us out or something.” He had partially frozen his fists in anticipation of trouble and hurried to defrost and compose himself as the one and only Dick Grayson sauntered up to the driver’s side. He wasn’t in costume, instead wearing black jeans and a tight-fitting leather blue jacket. Bobby just couldn’t look away.

Tim rolled his window down, leaning out to return the fist bump offered to him. “Have you been there the whole time waiting to give me a heart attack?”

Dick let out a laugh and Bobby smiled, surprised that he found himself awfully interested in hearing it all the time. “Sorry, no, I just caught the end of…” Dick gestured to where the police had just left, “all of that. Which, why were you giving them a bunch of cocaine?”

“My cousin picked up the wrong bag at the station. We agreed to swap back and make life a little easier for the GCPD. Oh, by the way,” Tim leaned back to introduce his open-mouthed passenger, “this is Bobby. Bobby, th-”

“Hi, yeah, Dick Grayson!” Bobby thrust out a hand and shook vigorously when it was taken. “I’m a huge fan of yours, of the- of the vigilante things you did. Or, I mean, that you still do.”

“Oh, uhh, thanks.” Dick smiled, amused at the other boy’s excitement. “You know about that?”

“Yeah, I know, I’m not really supposed to, but this one basically mapped out your entire career for me when we were younger.”

Dick glanced at Tim, who simply shrugged in response. “Look, I was an excited 10 year old who just found out this huge secret. My parents didn’t want to hear it, so I had to tell someone! Can I just-!” Tim grabbed Bobby’s arm and extricated him from the handshake that was somehow still going on. He shook his head at his cousin disapprovingly. “Wait,” he turned back to Dick. “How’d you know to come here?”

“I heard Gordon talking about some drug deal on the scanner, then I saw you coming up here and thought I’d follow in case you needed any back up.”

“Oh… so you basically just followed a random car up here. I mean, what if that wasn’t me?”

“Yeah, because there’s so many custom Bentleys cruising down an abandoned area of Gotham at 10 o’clock at night?” 

“That's fair,” Tim conceded. He put the car back into gear, preparing to continue his reversal. “Anyway, let’s go, didn’t I promise you dinner?”

“See ya there!” Bobby called out as Dick went back to his bike. He turned back around only to be met with a look of extreme displeasure. “What?”

“Could you not?”

“Wha- what? Pfffft,” Bobby spluttered, “I wasn’t even doing anything!”

“Oohhhhhhh, yeah, ok. Keep it in your pants, Drake!” Tim ordered, putting a finger in his face.

“Start driving, Timothy.”

Later that night, an empty bowl sat in the sink and the pot once filled with delectable stew was almost empty, chilling in the fridge for someone’s next meal. 

Now blessed with all of his clothes, Bobby had gone to take a long awaited shower, while Tim sat with Dick in his room, catching up. They had just finished talking about their strangest criminals of that week, so there was a bit of a lull in conversation. The sound of water running, as well as Bobby's voice mumbling along to some pop song, drifted over to fill the quiet hall. 

Dick sat back in his chair and craned his neck out a little, eyes settling on the adjacent (slightly ajar) bathroom door. At first, all he could see was steam, but then he heard the shower door slide open. Catching a quick glimpse of a glistening and wet torso, Dick even more quickly tore his eyes away, blinking the image away. He looked back at Tim lying upside down on the bed, scrolling through recent news on his phone.

“So that’s the favorite cousin?”

“Hmm?” Tim closed out the Daily Planet article about the newest charitable Luthor project and flipped over to sit on his knees. “Yep, that’s him. You’ve finally met the elusive Robert Drake.”

“Yeah, why haven’t we ever met?”

“You were busy in Blüdhaven the first time he visited. He was only here for a couple of days anyway, just to help me move the last of my things.”

“Oh… so did he always know about the Robin stuff?”

“Well… Yeah.” Tim smiled sheepishly. “Like I said, I was an excited kid with a conspiracy theory and Bobby was there to listen. He’s been like my best friend since before I could even talk, if there’s anyone you can trust, it’s him.” 

“Why’s he only come to visit twice?” Dick inquired, though he felt he wasn’t really interested in the  _ why _ as much as the  _ when will he be coming back _ . “Or, better question, why aren’t you ever going to see him?” 

“I’ve tried! He teaches at this boarding school and I guess they’re really strict about their visitations. And you know how it gets around here with the summer heat, so I’ve just never found the time to go. Plus, last time I tried, he said things were a little icy with his parents and he didn’t want to put me in the middle of it. I mean, we talk all the time, it just takes a while to work out a matching schedule.”

“Aww, man.” Dick, immediately aware of how disappointed and wistful he had just sounded, quickly course corrected and muttered, “Uhh, bummer.”

It didn’t seem like Tim took any notice to the first thing, however, as he flopped forward onto the bed, responding, “Not really. I’m operating under the assumption that if I see him more than I do now, he’ll become like everyone else’s extended family where it’s like you love them… but you don’t want to see them more than you have to. Who knows? Will I even survive the next week and a half with him?”

“Damn, Timmy, thanks.” Bobby walked in, pulling his shirt down and throwing his wet towel into Tim’s face. “Love you too.”

Dick watched him enter and was surprised at how hard it was to keep his eyes off him. It was a strange feeling. They had just met, barely even spoken, and that was Tim’s  _ cousin _ ! And yet, he just couldn’t help himself.

Tim let the thrown towel land on his head and declared from underneath it, “Hey, I still like hanging out with you!” He pulled the towel off and folded it neatly, setting it on the edge of his bed. “Sure, once every three years is a bit too long, but if it’s working, let’s not ruin it.” 

Bobby rolled his eyes, yet was smirking as he went over to sit between the two. “So what do you guys do for fun when you’re not constantly saving the city?” 

“Mmm…” Tim sat back up and crossed his arms, giving the question some serious thought. “I... don’t know. I haven’t had a lot of downtime recently, now that I think about it. Dick?”

“Umm... we could play video games in the Batcave.”

Tim snapped his head up at this suggestion, looking confused. “We could just play on the screen downstairs. You know, the 85 inch curved one with brand new speakers?”

“Well, yeah, but,” Bobby suddenly piped up. “I… never turn down an offer to see the Batcave.” 

*****

At half past midnight, all three boys sat in near darkness, traversing the levels of the new Super Mario Bros. game, with Dick playing as Toadette, Bobby as Luigi, and Tim basically carrying the team as Nabbit. 

“No, NO! Stop grabbing my crown!”

“Quit pushing me off!”

“Stop complaining, you’re immune!” 

“Can someone pop me, please?”

“I deserve the Ice Flower!”

“Fight me for it!”

“Don’t you die, Dick! Don’t die! AHH, damn it…” The game over message flashed on screen as controllers were dropped. 

“Ugh, that was stressful. Three player Mario is too much.” Bobby exhaled deeply and fully relaxed into his chair, letting it slowly swivel around. “This place is so cool. I’m legitimately jealous of you guys. And it’s not just because playing Resident Evil on this thing would be… an experience.” 

“What, that fancy school of yours doesn’t have a hidden high tech basement?” Tim teased while packing up the console. 

“No! Well, sort of. We’ve got, like, these virtual reality things set up, but it’s not exactly my personal thing to use however I want. It’s not a bad basement... it’s got  _ nothing _ on the Batcave, though. I mean… just the name alone.” Bobby mused, stopping to look around at all the costumes and tech as he followed the other two to the exit. 

“Oh, yeah, you like it? Dick named it himself.” 

“I did not name it,” Dick spun around to address Bobby, continuing to walk backwards. “I said it a few times when I was 9 and they’re the ones who decided to keep it, I had no say.”

Tim  _ pfft _ in disagreement.

“It’s a good name, though.” Bobby offered. “You know, catchy, fitting. Super... on-brand.” 

“Super on-brand.” Dick repeated, grinning at him, then bumped into a wall. 

“Oh, sorry.” Bobby reached forward to help set him on a clear path. “I totally should’ve told you there was a wall there.”

“Ok!” Tim popped up next to them and grabbed his cousin’s elbow, pushing him towards the stairs, ignoring all his objections. “It’s pretty late, got lots to do tomorrow probably, you’re tired, time for bed, huh?”

“Uhh, all right!” Bobby stuttered, making his way up to his room. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yep, uh-huh, goodnight!” Tim waved goodbye, before turning back around to Dick, who quickly dropped his waving hand after seeing the other’s expression. “Et tu, Richard?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. You take him to see the cave when we could’ve easily played that in my room, you’re laughing at his stupid jokes, you keep... looking at each other, you’re flirting! And he’s flirting! Kind of awkwardly, but still! You’re like my brother, I can't have that, it’s too weird! Just… stop it!”

“Whoa, relax.” Dick chuckled, putting both hands on the younger’s shoulders. “You got nothing to worry about. We just met, I’m making a friend, that’s all.”

“Right.” Tim narrowed his eyes as he slowly climbed up the stairs. “I’m watching you… the both of you.”

“Ok, go to sleep.” 

* * *

It was 6:30 in the morning and Bobby needed to pee. He was very unhappy with his body’s need to relieve itself because it woke him up right in the middle of an incredibly cute dream involving Dick Grayson and Netflix and chill. Which was a surprise. Pleasant, but still a surprise in that the events of the dream had recurred several times before, but the usual dream-Nightwing had been replaced with the guy behind the mask. 

But there was no point in trying to conjure the dream back, so Bobby sighed and padded out into the hall in a slightly sleep deprived haze. 

As he walked out of the bathroom, and about to bother the hell out of his cousin, he bumped right into the person he'd much rather see. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey, morning!” Dick walked up to him, his megawatt smile almost blinding.

Also, if Bobby wasn't still a bit foggy from sleep, he could've sworn he caught Dick's eyes swiftly looking him up and down. But for what reason would he be doing that? It's not like his messy bed head was anything to… wait. Oh, god. He forgot he had slept shirtless and was not at all ready for  _ this _ sort of encounter. He fidgeted against the doorframe, trying his best to seem casual, but also hide away into the darkness.

Thankfully, Dick seemed to sense the uncomfortable vibe between them and started to talk faster. “So I was going to stop by this bakery, they always sell out of Mont Blanc early and it’s Alfred’s favorite.”

“Oh, are you talking about Duke’s Patisserie?” Bobby asked excitedly, his modesty attempt all but forgotten.

“Yeah, you know it?”

“Yes! I love that place, I haven’t stopped thinking about their macarons for the past three years!” 

“Great, you wanna come with?” Dick stepped to the side to continue walking down the hallway. “I’m just gonna ask Tim if he wants anything.”

“Sure, let me get changed.” Bobby moved past Dick with all the grace of a penguin waddling past a sea lion onto thin ice.

A couple minutes later, Bobby was fully dressed and waiting by the front doors, desperately trying not to stare right at Dick’s ass while he adjusted some things on his motorcycle. “Uhh, Tim’s not coming?”

“Heh, no. He asked for an orange cranberry muffin and went right back to sleep. He’ll be out for another 3 hours at least.” Dick laughed, throwing over a spare helmet. “Do you mind if we take my bike?”

“No, no, I’d love to! I was just about to ask if I could take it for a spin sometime,” Bobby foolishly blurted out in an effort to seem like he was cool with it, even though, internally, he was teeming with excitement at the prospect of being so close together.

“Oh, did you want to drive?” Dick genuinely asked, because while he was fully aware of his own reasons for wanting to take the bike, he did not know of the other’s inner turmoil.

Bobby, in turn, just stared at the offered keyring. “N-no.”

“Uhh, maybe later,” Dick replied with a smirk, before securing his helmet. “Hop on.” 

Bobby swung a leg over and tried to keep himself under control as he sat up snug. He took a deep breath, then gingerly wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist.

“You good?” Dick asked, kicking the bike into gear. “Hang on tight.”

Being so early in the morning, the streets of Gotham had hardly any people, so they arrived at their destination in record time. After perusing the patisserie’s goods for probably longer than necessary, Bobby and Dick walked back to the motorcycle, a sweets-filled pink box in tow.

“These’ll keep for a few hours at least, right?” Bobby had the top flipped open and was marveling at each purchase: 6 macarons of different flavors, a tall Mont Blanc, a muffin that had no business being as large as it was, and a pristine coconut green tea panna cotta. “Because if I don’t bring anything back for Kitty, she’ll stab me.” 

“Honestly, Alfred’s the same. Don’t worry, Duke’s will help you avoid an early death.” Dick confirmed, turning down the alleyway adjacent to the strip mall’s back entrance where he had parked. “Who’s Kitty?” he asked, as coolly as possible.

“Oh, one of my best friends,” Bobby answered furtively, placing the box on the seat. “Who also happens to help out a lot, like, administratively at our school, so if I make her mad at me, say goodbye to … uhh, class field trips. But, with some of these, she’ll love me forever.”

“High stakes! You’re sticking around for the charity gala Bruce is throwing, right?” Dick asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“Yeah, I’m leaving the 16th.”

“Perfect! In that case, next Friday, you should definitely get her the-”

“Hey!” 

Turning to the voice, the duo found Dick’s suggestion was interrupted by a man in a red button down shirt, with 3 other men flanking him. “What a stroke of luck, eh, boys?”

Dick exchanged confused glances with Bobby before responding, “Can we help you?”

“Ohhh, yeah.” The 4 men sauntered up to him, one of them nonchalantly twirling a knife, metal catching sunlight every turn. The one who spoke first gestured towards Bobby. “You see, your boyfriend there got our boss’s nephew in some hot water last night and lost us a pretty big haul. He was very upset today and told us to bring in the snitch. Alive, I guess, but honestly, he has no preference. And, lo and behold, who do we run into this fine morning?” He clapped his hands together and flashed them a wicked grin. 

Dick stared back at them, completely unconcerned. “Wow, that was so stereotypical, like, straight out of an old cartoon. Great job, is Looney Tunes your main inspiration or...?”

“Haha, that’s funny. No, really, I like you.” The man let out a mirthless chuckle, then reached behind him and brandished his revolver, smile disappearing. “But, seriously, if you don’t wanna die today, I suggest you step aside.” 

“Whoa, ok, man, relax.” Dick put his hands up and put himself between Bobby and the barrel of the gun. 

“Uhh, Dick?” As much as Bobby appreciated who was with him in this current predicament, he really didn’t want to be the reason his crush got shot today. “Maybe…”

“Bobby, I can’t just let them take you. Tim would never forgive me,” Dick pointed out, keeping his eye on the men. “Look, dude, trust me, this is not gonna end well for you, so I suggest you walk away now and we'll never have to speak of this again.”

“Ok, I’m gonna give you three seconds to move.” He leveled the gun at Dick and cocked it. “One…”

Before the word even finished leaving his mouth, Dick reacted, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting the revolver right out of his hand. Right as he did that, the other three cronies scrambled to assist their friend. 

Bobby, without a second thought, shot out an icy blast and froze the four of them where they stood, encasing them in blocks, leaving just their heads out of the ice. Which may have been a mistake, because after realizing that they were now stuck, the four men started yelling for help.

Dick gaped in shock at the spontaneous ice formations before him and slowly turned around. Bobby had both hands up and a panicked look on his face. “I can explain!”

At that moment, Dick’s phone rang and he scrambled to answer it, setting the gun on the floor. “Hello?”

“Hey, have you left Duke’s yet?” Tim’s voice rang out, sounding a bit groggy still. “M’gann asked if you could get her a kiwi fruit tart? I think she said she’s trying to prove something to Conner, or something, I don’t know… Hello?”

“Uhh, yeah, sorry,” Dick stumbled out, “I’ll get her one.”

“Ok.” There was a yawn on the other line, then, “You guys are taking a while, is everything-”

“We’ll be back soon.” Dick hastily hung up and turned his attention back to Bobby. “So…”

“I’ll tell you everything, but please don’t tell Tim!” 

Dick was truly at a loss for words, but didn’t have much time to come up with anything to say as the yelling had begun to draw attention and he could hear sirens in the distance. “Come on, explaining this away to the GCPD is not how I planned my morning.” He tossed Bobby his helmet and motioned for him to get on the bike. After throwing the discarded gun into a nearby dumpster for the cops to find, the two of them rode off to speak in private. 

~~~~~

Finding an empty area under a freeway overpass, Bobby paced back and forth, trying to figure out where he should start.

Dick leaned on his bike, processing everything that had just happened. “Umm, so… you’re a meta-human?”

Bobby stopped in his tracks and started to nibble on a fingernail. “Uhh, yes. Well, we’ve always called them mutants where I’m from, that’s not important right now. Ok… ok, umm… God, why is this so hard?!”

“Bobby!” Dick went up and put a placating hand on his arm. “Calm down, I’m right here with you.” They both took deep breaths. “Let’s start with the obvious. You have powers. Tim doesn’t know.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Bobby sighed, running a hand over his face. “My parents, when they found out… they weren’t ok with it. They made me promise not to tell anyone, especially any relatives. I don’t know, I guess they were scared or embarrassed or something.”

“Well, that’s terrible.” Dick stated, his expression mixed with sympathy for Bobby and disgust for his parents. 

“Yeah, they still barely acknowledge that part of me, and add to that the fact that I’m gay, but whatever, denial keeps us going. Ok, phew, you know what, let’s just start over.” Bobby exhaled sharply, grabbed Dick’s hand and shook it once. “Hi. I’m Bobby. My friends like to call me Iceman because… well, keeping it simple, I can turn into ice, I make ice, I control… ice. I’ve had my powers since I was 13, but I’m still figuring them out. Like, I find something new to do with them all the time, it freaks me out a little bit. Umm… I go to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, I don’t actually teach much of anything there, unless you count helping the new kids learn how to use their powers to make baseball more interesting. I’m part of this team, we help protect New York and recruit new muta- err, meta-humans and make sure they’re not dangerous or in any danger. And… I think that’s about it.” He plastered on an uneasy smile. “Questions?”

Dick, trying to wrap his head around everything he just heard and witnessed, didn’t respond for a solid minute. After all, the only ice powered people he’d met until that point had all been trying to kill him or other people, so this was really a new experience for him. “Can… can you show me?”

“Show you what exactly?” 

“I… I don’t know. What you can do, what you did before?” 

“Oh, right, yeah, of course.” Bobby took a step back and curled his hand into a fist, willing it to turn to ice. He heard a small gasp from his present company as the rest of his body followed suit. He stood perfectly still as Dick came up to him and ran a hand down his arm. “Pretty cool, right? Pardon the pun.”

“You’re not… covered in ice, are you?” Dick circled him, then knocked on Bobby’s chest with his knuckles. “I mean, that’s like… just you. You… turned into ice.”

“Yeah, I kinda tune out whenever Hank talks about the science, so I don’t really know how to explain it. Best I understand it, I’m a walking, talking organic ice cube… person,” he explained, accompanied with an awkward laugh. He then put his hands together and, in less than 5 seconds, made an ice Batarang. “I can do small stuff like that, or…” He gave Dick the Batarang and used both hands to build an almost life-size sculpture of Nightwing right in front of their eyes. He then crouched down and blasted ice on the asphalt, slowly lifting up his hand to reveal a small, foot-high snow… gnome. It stumbled clumsily towards Dick, whose eyes had widened to the size of plates at this point, and hung onto his pant leg. “Well, that’s enough of me showing off!” Bobby de-iced himself and melted away the gnome, but left the statue because the level of detail was actually pretty impressive, and damn it, even given the situation, he was going to admire it fully. “Are you… ok?”

Astounded, Dick gazed at the Batarang in his hand and at the patch of dirt where the sentient ice had been a moment ago. “It… moved.”

“I know, yeah,” he confirmed, smirking with pride. “Kind of a neurological marvel, or so I’ve been told.”

“I, uhh…” Dick went back to his bike and tinkered with it, as if trying to affirm his surroundings were reality while he thought of something to say. “Are you… you’re going to tell Tim, right? I mean, I don’t mean, like, right when we get back… but, eventually?”

“No, of course I’m gonna tell him! I just… have to figure out how.”

Silence followed as Dick tried to figure out how to word his next question. “Umm… can I just ask… I don’t want to sound like I’m criticizing you or anything, but if you’ve known since you were 13…”

“I know. I could’ve said something anytime in the last 10 years, I mean, he’s told me… a lot.” Bobby looked down at his hands conjuring up a small flurry of snowflakes and sighed. “I guess… I thought that if my parents reacted like that, then Tim might too, which, ok, is a quick assumption, because it’s not like I could know that and it... it’s a stupid thing for me to be worried about.”

“No, hey, it’s not.” Dick assured him. “You were just a kid… going through some pretty major puberty issues,” he joked, smiling when Bobby barked out a laugh. “The people who were supposed to be there for you, weren't, and you didn’t want someone you grew up with to suddenly look at you and just… not see  _ you _ .”

“Exactly! And, yeah, I know this isn’t giving Tim enough credit, because he’s not like my parents or the other kids from my town! He would listen and try to understand, instead of walking away from me or blaming me for… being something I didn’t exactly choose to be.” 

“Look, you’ve known Tim longer than I have, but if there’s anything about him I do know, it’s that we’ve got a couple superpowered friends and… honestly, he’s just gonna be happy to show you off.”

Bobby looked down at some snowflakes that had clustered, clinging onto the weeds growing between the cracks. He watched them dissolve before turning back to Dick and fixing him with a  _ particular _ look. “Well, I will admit, I’m not opposed to a little showboating.”

“Really?” Dick leaned back and gestured at the intricate ice sculpture of himself. “Who could’ve ever guessed that?” 

“Hey, that is some of my best work!” 

“I’m not complaining!” Dick responded, hands up in defense. “It‘s amazing, plus, my ass has never looked better.”

“Well, yeah, that was the easiest part, I’ve stared long enough-” Bobby cut himself off, eyes widening at what he just let slip out. “Uhhhh…” He flicked his gaze towards Dick’s direction, who had turned away slightly, but whose failure to stifle a laugh was still very evident. Bobby buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Ok, I’d like to die now.”

“No, no! I’m flattered, really!” Dick quickly amended, putting a hand on the other’s shoulder, still smiling widely. “Actually, I… I’m glad you said something,” he paused, considering whether or not  _ he _ should say something. Well, if there was ever a good moment to shoot his shot… at least this one offered a segue. “Now it won’t feel so awkward when I return the favor.” Dick announced, before closing his eyes and hanging his head in shame at how weird  _ that _ sounded.

Bobby tilted his head up and peeked through his fingers. “What?”

“Sorry, that did not come out right. I just meant… I like you, too.” Dick said haltingly, keeping his eyes to the floor. 

“Oh… Really?” Bobby dropped his hands, letting out a short, honest-to-god giggle, before sobering up. “I mean, ummm… Wait, seriously?”

“Is that weird? I mean, I’ve only known you for about 8 hours and we’re already sharing dark secrets, not to mention you’re my friend’s cousin. Yeah, ok, it’s weird.”

“No, I’m ecstatic, I’ve known about you for years!” Bobby blurted out a bit too quickly. “Or whatever makes me sound less like a creep.” He promptly face palmed. “God, none of this is going right.” 

Dick gave him a pat on the back and a sympathetic smile. “I know exactly how you feel. I never would’ve guessed a bakery run would end up like this.”

Bobby plopped down on the bike’s seat and bemoaned, “Yep, which was all my fault. Sorry, I thoroughly ruined your morning.”

Dick chuckled goodnaturedly and settled down next to him. “No way, you made my morning.” 

It was at this time that Bobby looked up and locked eyes with Dick for the first time since they stopped under this freeway. There was a comfortable silence between them and, yes, it’s clichè to admit it, but their faces were pretty close together and Bobby’s eyes had automatically drifted down to the other’s lips. He imagined it happening then: a kiss fueled by nerves and adrenaline that was still wearing off, and it would be likely very awkward, but magical. A second passed, then another, but then the two simultaneously turned away and the moment was gone. 

In the cases of both, it was definitely desired, but the thought of Tim and his previous disapproval just gave them pause for the time being. 

“Umm,” Bobby stood up and dusted off a bit of snow from a helmet, handing it to Dick. “We should probably get back before Tim thinks we’ve, like, died or something.” 

“Right, yeah!” Dick jumped up and accepted the offered helmet, hand briefly brushing against Bobby’s. “Uhh… the panna cotta! If I come back with that melted, Alfred will stand there and watch me drink it. Oh, crap, and I said I’d get a fruit tart for M’gann!” 

“Oh, no worries!” Bobby put his helmet under one arm and held the other hand out to the pink box. A blast streamed out and ice formed under the pastries, giving them their own personal freezer. “They’ll get to Alfred intact, promise.”

After melting away the remaining ice creations, the two of them set off again to obtain and deliver the promised goods. 

Arriving back at the manor, Dick waited for Bobby to dissolve the icy interior, revealing still-perfect pastries and a dry pink box. Like, there were no signs of melting or water damage at all even with the sun high up in the sky. Dick was not about to question meta-human physics right now, so he simply locked his steering and followed Bobby up the steps, into the foyer. 

Sitting upright on the loveseat, Tim had his back turned to them, talking to someone on a video call. He had just finished saying something about Dick usually being back by now, when he noticed the new arrivals pop into view of his camera. “Oh, finally!” He spun around and exhaled, hanging up the call. “What happened to you? I called, like, 5 times. I was about to get Conner to start a search party.”

The two of them pulled out their phones and winced at the multiple missed calls and texts. “Sorry, sorry! We got… a little distracted, I didn’t hear it.” Bobby exclaimed, pulling out Tim’s long awaited muffin and moved to join him on the loveseat. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” 

“Uhh, I’m gonna go find Alfred, he’s been waiting long enough for these.” Dick excused himself, about to make his way towards the back garden.

“Wait…” Tim, mouth open and ready to bite down, stopped short and looked between the two with concern... which quickly gave way to apprehension and fear. “Oh, please, no.”

“What?” Dick questioned, also pausing. 

Tim set his half unwrapped muffin down. “Look, I know I’ve been saying I’m not ok with…” he wildly gesticulated to get his meaning across, “whatever you two have going on here, but I’m not actually that bothered. Well, that’s not true, I’m very uncomfortable. BUT, you’re both adults and I can get past it… eventually. That being said, if you’re about to tell me that you were, like, getting it on in the park bathroom or something, I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!”

“Oh my god, NO!” Bobby yelled at the same time Dick uttered the most horrified gasp that's probably ever escaped him. “No, that's- no! Just no.”

“I don’t know! You disappear for the whole morning, you don’t answer your phones, and now you’re here, acting all sketchy! How do I know you weren’t... riding the bony express!?”

“Ahhh, I’m not hearing this,” Dick cried out, rushing to the back door. “I have to go, I have to leave right now!” He turned to Bobby, gave him a thumbs up, whispered  _ sorry _ ,  _ good luck _ , and split.

Tim threw his hands up in exasperation. “Well, that’s just not reassuring.”

“Ok, Tim? Just… listen for a minute.” Bobby took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, frost blew out, eliciting a baffled croak from his cousin. “So… you know meta-humans?”

After all was said and done, the living room of the manor had transformed into nothing short of a winter wonderland. There were ice sculptures of various shapes and sizes surrounding the coffee table, which was also encased in a block of ice itself. The floor was covered in a sheet of frost, giving it an appearance not unlike that of an ice rink. A large ice slide that loop-the-looped towered over them, obstructing the front door, the entrance to the kitchen, and part of the staircase. 

Tim sat, unmoved, in his spot on the loveseat, a small snowman figurine spinning in his hand. Bobby waited, chewing on a fingernail. “Take your time. I know, it’s a lot to take in.”

“I-I feel like it may have been better if you did this outside?” Tim stated as he looked around, no doubt concerned of the potential flooding factor. 

“Oh, yeah, ok. So, part two.” Bobby melted everything away, leaving not even a drop of water behind. 

“Hmm. That’s… handy.” He neglected to say anything else.

“Uhh, yeah!” Bobby scooted closer, attempting to catch Tim’s eye. “I’ve been told that my ice doesn’t usually melt because-”

“You freeze any water vapor around you, lowering the ambient temperature of your surroundings, so the ice you create doesn’t melt away because there’s no exchange of kinetic energy.”

“Huh.” Bobby stared at him, his mouth slowly forming into an ‘O’. “Yeah, couldn’t have said it better myself. How-?”

“I think Wally’s been hanging around too much.”

“Right, so… are you ok?” Bobby asked, concerned that Tim had less of a reaction and more of... just observations.

“Ok? My cousin and one of my best friends since we were kids just told me he’s had powers for about a decade and didn’t tell me even though I tell him pretty much everything,” Tim rambled, getting up to pace the floor, his voice rising in pitch with every word. “I guess I get why he didn’t because this is a pretty big bomb to drop on anyone, so it’s nice to know the trust is still there. Also, I know I shouldn’t be mad he took this long, but I’m kinda mad for some reason, hahaha, but why wouldn’t I be ok? This is fine!” 

“I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you, but I just got scared and I.. I didn’t want you to look at me like some kind of freak, like m-my parents and my friends and I’m just- I’m sorry.”

“A freak?” Tim sighed and knelt down next to him. “I would never do that. I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” Bobby interjected, “it was stupid of me to think-”

“No, hey, don’t do that! Don’t apologize for… not wanting to be shut out. Look, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you told me. Sure, I’m a little upset but only because you’ve kept all of this to yourself, which is literally the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

“Really?” Bobby asked, a goofy smile spreading across his face. “You too, huh? Good to know.”

Tim’s excited grin suddenly formed into a frown. “You already told Dick, didn’t you?”

“Whoa, whoa, that wasn’t planned! It just… kinda happened. I had to give him an explanation! And that’s why I told you now, I didn’t want him to have to keep my secret for me.”

“Relax,” Tim japed, hitting Bobby in the arm. “I’m messing with you. I do have one question, though. Since you can make snow and ice and little sentient snow things… does that mean you’re basically Elsa?”

“Wha-? No!” Bobby’s mood immediately changed at the comparison. “Elsa is like me, I was first! And not to mention, her powers don’t even make any sense! How is she designing clothes with ice? How did she bring that snowman to life? I mean, it’s completely conscious, it’s like a whole other person! Does she, like, consider it her child? And he’s pretty annoying, what if she gets tired of him and just leaves him somewhere? Where’s the ethics in that?” 

Upon seeing Tim’s satisfied smirk, Bobby stopped and inhaled deeply. “Ohh. You’re just trying to get me riled up.”

“Sort of, mostly I wanted to see if you would make a snowstorm while you’re mad.” 

“It doesn’t work like that, Tim, I’m not Elsa!” 

“Ok, ok, sorry! You’re… way better than her.” Tim laughed, tapering off when he realized something else. “Wait a second, so is this why I have to keep asking to visit your school? And why every time we talk about your classes, you always say a different subject? Oh, and this explains those photos of you in Alaska wearing a t-shirt, while everyone around you was wearing, like, 3 layers of clothes!”

Bobby tilted his head up, trying to recall the aforementioned pictures. “Ohh, yeah… I didn’t… didn’t think about that. And yeah, I don’t teach anything at school, which is all meta-, well, we’ve always said mutants, same difference. But, yes, also why you’ve never been. You can totally come now, though!”

“Thanks for the afterthought, you better believe I’m going over there! Oh, last thing I wanted to ask. What’s going on with you and Dick?”

“What? Nothing!” At Tim’s unconvinced scowl, Bobby continued. “All right, maybe there was, like, a moment at the overpass where I thought… but nothing happened! I think we just thought about how weird it’d be for you and… Anyway, it didn’t happen!”

“Hang on. You went out and were threatened at gunpoint, accidentally revealed your powers, almost kissed the guy you’ve had a crush on since you were 18, all the while thinking about how I would react to the fact you could freeze damn near all of Gotham and you still had the time to be worried about what I think of your relationship status?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Well, damn, Romeo, don’t let me stop you! You guys… have something and who am I to stand in the way of that?”

“So you’re ok with us? I mean, with there  _ being _ a us?” Bobby asked hopefully, already on the edge of his seat. 

“No!” Tim immediately answered, running a hand through his hair. “But, like I said, I can get used to it. And, hey, silver lining? No awkward holiday bonding! That’s a pretty good trade-off.”

“That is one perk… So, you’re sure?”

“Oh my god, why are you still talking to me,” Tim cried, pointing to the door that led to the back garden. “Get out there!”

“Oh, yeah!” Bobby scrambled over, throwing back a  _ thanks, _ and rushed out the door.

The Wayne gardens weren’t exactly sprawling, because who has the time for that? Still, its size was hardly something to scoff at, boasting formations of tall hedges, perfectly manicured lawns, and 2 large marble fountains to the left and right. A little further down the main path, there was a white bench currently being occupied by two macaron thieves. 

“Wait, was this the black currant one? Or was it the blueberry that I liked?” Dick held up half of a dark blue macaron, inspecting its buttercream filling. 

“Master Richard, I appreciate the surprise pastry delivery, and while it is delicious, we shouldn’t be eating so much processed sugar in one sitting.” Alfred reasoned, finishing the rest of the panna cotta in one big spoonful. 

“Well, they’re still in there working out some stuff. I don’t want to interrupt and seeing how there’s only one way into the kitchen, this seems like a better choice than letting all of these just waste awaaayy- Hey!” Dick threw his half back in the box, jumping up to greet the new arrival. “You’re done!”

Bobby looked at the almost empty pink box, with only a few macarons left inside, and frowned. “Awww…”

“Sorry, sorry, we’ll go get more,” Dick promised. “You were just taking a while and they were sooo good… Clearly, I have no self-control.”

“It’s ok, I’d never turn down another morning… adventure with you.” Bobby grinned, inching closer to him.

“That’s my cue to go. I’ll leave you two to it.” Alfred, not missing a beat, picked up the box, popping another macaron in his mouth, and walked back up the short path. 

“So,” Dick started, sitting back down and motioning for Bobby to join. “I see that you didn’t automatically get kicked out. I’m guessing he took it well?” 

“Yeah, actually, better than I thought! Also, uhh, I should mention that’s not… all he took well.” 

“What do you mean?”

Bobby didn’t reply. Instead, he simply took Dick’s hand and pulled him close. “I really hope I haven’t been reading this wrong the whole time.”

“You have to ask?” Dick smiled, drawing Bobby into a slow kiss. Wrapping an arm around the blond’s waist, he let out a quick breath as Bobby pulled up the other arm and positioned himself onto Dick’s lap. They leaned into each other, deepening the kiss. Dick pushed up Bobby’s shirt, putting one hand on his stomach and the other on the small of his back. 

“Oh ho, hey! Maybe save that for a little later, huh! Please?”

Bobby startled, almost throwing himself off to address the new voice. “Oh my god!” Dick stood up as soon as he did, clearing his throat and pushing back a stray hair. 

Tim was sitting on the balcony overlooking the gardens, his legs dangling out through the sparse railing. He pointed a finger at the two below him and made a little circling motion. “This is great, really, it honestly is… but let’s just keep it in the bedroom, yeah, and  _ out _ of my mind! I would really appreciate that.”

“Got it,” Bobby shouted back, as Dick gave him a thumbs up. “Sorry, Timmy!”

“Well, this all worked out quite nicely,” Dick said, shoving his hands into his pockets so as to not continue disturbing Tim.

“Yeah, you were right,” Bobby acknowledged, bumping shoulders with Dick. “I had nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say nothing!” Tim announced, bringing their attention back to him. For some reason, he had yet to leave.

“Uhh, what?” 

Tim stood up, a somewhat devious smirk playing on his lips. He set his elbows on the railing and leaned forward. “You were worried about me? Wait ‘til Damian finds out.”

Bobby looked to Dick, whose expression had quickly turned to one of realization and subtle fear. “Who?” 

  
  
  
  


Epilogue

It was 7 pm on a Saturday night and the Wayne Charity Ball (though Bruce applied that term very loosely) was in full swing. Several Gotham socialites were gathered in the foyer, doing what they did best: gossip and pretend to care for charity. 

A few Justice League members were also there. Dinah and Oliver mostly loitered near the bar, while Barry, Diana, and Clark tried to mingle with some vapid guests over hors d'oeuvres. Bruce was currently busy making the rounds and keeping up appearances.

Bobby stood near the staircase, nibbling on a skewer of tomatoes and mozzarella, trying to stay out of the way. Tim had gone up to change into more formal wear after assisting the chefs and Dick had yet to arrive, so Bobby was just trying to stay hidden. These were not his kind of people and he was not very good at faking otherwise. He was just about to sequester himself at the bar to at least help make the night go smoother, when he heard the large front doors open. 

Seeing Dick walk in, one other guest in tow, Bobby breathed a sigh of relief, his spirits suddenly lifting. Right as he was about to go over to them, Tim’s voice came from above him. 

“Well, well, well, do you see what  _ ice  _ see?” Tim asked with a laugh and a twinkle in his eye. He stood on the fifth step, poking his head over the bannister and looked out among the people.

Bobby angled his head up and shot Tim a judgemental look, not dissimilar to what one might give to someone who had just suggested Jurassic World was a superior movie to its predecessors. 

Tim caught his glare, smile dissipating. “Ok, not my best. Anyway, see that kid with Dick?”

Bobby glanced over at Dick and the plus one next to him. He was a short kid, about as tall as Tim actually was the last time Bobby visited, dressed in a tailored black suit, loafers, and clip-on bow tie. “Yeah? What about him?”

“That, my sweet, dear cousin, is Damian Wayne. Yes, the Damian I’ve been talking about, and oh, good, they’re coming this way.”

“What, shit!” Bobby put down his plate and smoothed out his jacket. He wasn’t sure why he was so freaked out, but from what Dick and Tim had said about this Damian, he figured he should try to impress. 

“Hey!” Dick greeted them when he was near, giving Bobby a quick kiss. “Party’s kind of a drag, huh?” 

“It was,” Bobby replied, interlacing their fingers. “Not so much now.”

“Glad to be of service. Oh, hey,” Dick stepped to the side and put an arm around Damian’s shoulders. “Bobby, this is Damian. Damian, this is Tim’s cousin, the one I was telling you about?”

Damian looked Bobby up and down once, then crossed his arms and simply said, “Hmm.”

“Ok,” Dick sighed, before the sound of his name cut off whatever he was about to say next. “Oh, that’s Vicki Vale, I should go say hi really quick. I’ll be right back. D,” he paused, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy. “Be nice.”

Once he left, Bobby looked back to Damian, who hadn’t changed his expression, and bit his lip. “Uhh, yeah, hey. I’m Bobby.”

“So I’ve heard, thanks,” Damian retorted.

“Oh, right.” Bobby chuckled nervously, looking to Tim for help, who just continued to eat his prosciutto with an amused grin. “Uhh, it’s nice to finally meet you!” He extended a hand.

Damian growled at it and Bobby immediately pulled his arm back. “I’m going to go join Father and Richard. Drake,” he addressed Tim for the first time, then glanced Bobby over once more. “Other one... I will see  _ you _ after the party.” 

Bobby watched him walk away, then turned back to his cousin, fear in his eyes. “Did you-? Did he- did he just growl at me?!”

“Yeah…Yeah, he did.” Tim clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t take it personally, he didn’t like me when we first met, either. In fact, I’m still not sure if he likes me now. He does, however, prefer one Richard Grayson over most people and uhh, well, he’s very protective, and, though I hate to admit it, pretty badass, so...” 

“So… what?”

Tim widened his eyes, then went to grab a few more skewers. “Nah, I’m sure you’ll be fine. See you later… hopefully.”

“Wha-? Tim! Wait, lemme stay with you!”

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha, oh Damian, you rascal! 
> 
> Yeah, I know the timeline is a bit wonky but just ignore the fact that Tim is still Robin, yet Damian is also somehow there. 
> 
> Umm, I also tried my best with the “science” but I’m not great with that, so sorry if anything is really wrong! 
> 
> Hope you liked this and maybe, if y’all want, this has the potential to be more of a series!


End file.
